Miss You like Crazy
by diva.gonzo
Summary: Valentine's Day 2000 - Ron Weasley has some large plans for the day. Hermione doesn't know that Ron can be a romantic when he's motivated. Special appearances by so many folks in the later chapter. (Rated M for fluff in ch. 2 and lemons in ch. 3.) Originally written for the R/Hr smutfest on tumblr as a One-shot. Cover art by the lovely anxiouspineapples on tumblr and deviantart.
1. Comparing Loaves

**Miss you like Crazy**

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A/N: first published for the R/Hr smutfest on two other sites - and per the rules, I couldn't publish them here until after the end of the fest. I hope this is enjoyable. - **D.G.**

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**Ch. 1 - Comparing Loaves**

Harry and Ron sat in the kitchen, tucking into a huge pot of Irish stew that Ginny left under a warming charm. It was after midnight, and their shift ran over. Chasing dark wizards, even as trainees, was arduous work. Moments of excitement, madness and terror, tempered with stacks of paperwork.

Harry's home – Grimmauld Place – had been renovated in that first summer after they'd changed the world. Gone were the dark brocades, the green and silver colors. They were replaced with a plethora of gold, maroon, Yellows and Browns, Imperial Purple and Royal Blue. As much as Molly Weasley complained, living here was a benefit. The home was centrally located to the Ministry of Magic, where Ron and Harry worked, along with Hermione too. Ginny was the only one who had a commute, from London to Holyhead, but she didn't mind in the least. The hours the guys kept also didn't make it easier for Arthur and Molly either. They could come home at six after a regular day, or four am after doing after action reports.

It was a blessing that Grimmauld Place was situated conspicuously in Muggle London. Their notoriety was painful at times, especially when Ron went to work at WWW helping George when he had free time. The throngs still gathered when they made an appearance at the Leaky Cauldron, or shopped in Diagon Alley.

Memories of the war were still fresh on wizarding minds, not having the Final Battle less than two years past. When they walked into an establishment, voices lowered, eyes lit up, and hands were held out, in thanks and stories to tell. Some wanted more, but they were politely brushed aside. Only a few didn't like how they handled the situation.

"Ron, are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Of course I'm sure." Ron finished his first chunk of bread. "Only thing I've been sure of for years."

Ron helped himself to a second bowl of stew.

"Slow down mate, there's more in there. It won't vanish if you don't shovel it in."

"Can't help it; I'm starving."

"You're always starving."

Ron tore a chunk of homemade bread on the table. He sopped up the gravy in the bowl onto it, tearing a huge chunk with his teeth. "Ginny makes some great bread."

"How'd you know it was Ginny's bread?"

"Mum puts a dash of nutmeg and cinnamon in her bread. Ginny uses rosemary. Smell the difference?"

Harry looked down and saw the little flecks of green in the bread. "No wonder why they don't taste the same. I never knew that."

"You didn't pay attention, did you?"

"I never noticed that before. I was too busy eating my first tasty meal of the summer."

"Don't let Ginny hear you say that."

Harry rolled his eyes before looking down at his empty bowl. "I think I'll get more before you finish the pot."

"Very funny, Harry."

Harry ladled out more stew into his own bowl, then tearing his own chunk of bread for his gravy. "It's not like this isn't unexpected," he said before taking a bite.

"I know, but I've been planning it out for months."

Harry sat there gobsmacked. "Months? You're serious."

"I've been thinking about it since the day she woke at Shell Cottage."

"Merlin, you've got it bad. No wonder why the house sounds haunted most days."

Ron held his spoon before his mouth. He'd ignored Harry's obvious cheek. "I'm tired of waiting. She feels the same way." He put the lamb and carrot laden spoon in his mouth.

Harry grinned mischievously. "Really? She's never said."

Ron looked down at the loaf of bread. He tore another piece off. "She doesn't speak about it. But I know her."

Harry grinned. "Well, yea. You get in her knickers daily."

Ron grinned back. "Well, she's amazing, and not just in the sack."

"Please, no more details than I unfortunately know. Bad enough I hear you on occasion, much less see you too."

"Merlin, Harry, we can't help it you have piss poor timing. Damn wand blocker."

Harry chuckled. "Well, it's not like the two of you stay in your bedroom all the time either."

"You're a riot Harry. Bad enough you're shagging my sister. I don't need to see it either, you tosser."

Harry tossed a sugar cube at Ron. He caught it and put it in his steaming cup of freshly poured tea. "Rot your teeth you will."

"Nah. Dr. Granger checks them often."

"You go see him, do you?"

"I figure it's a small price to pay for shagging his daughter. It's not like he doesn't realize."

"When'd he figure that out, mate?"

"We were staying with them about two weeks before returning home from that first trip. Hermione forgot to do a silencing charm, and they heard us in the shower."

"Wow!" Harry put his hand to his forehead, imitating a headache.

"They did. Facing Mrs. Granger was bad enough. I was red like a tomato, and she only laughed before walking away. I think I heard her mutter something along the lines of _Takes after her mother._

Harry laughed.

"Dr. Granger was another story. We talked for two hours in his library, without the women present. I thought he'd tear my bits from my bum. But once he opened his office, and Hermione had that row with him, we were fine."

"She rowed with her Dad?"

"Sure did. I did a very hasty silencing charm around the room so the neighbors didn't hear them. No wonder where Hermione gets it from."

Harry looked down at his empty bowl. "You got the ring?"

Ron pulled the small gold velvet bag from his pocket, laying it down in front of Harry. "Go on, open it."

Harry untied the bag, and opened the black velvet box inside. Nestled inside was a half carat deep blue sapphire ring, flanked with two small diamonds on a silver band. Harry looked up in shock. "Blimey Ron! Where'd you get this? It must have cost you a fortune."

Ron blushed, illuminating his ears. "I saved every knut I've made while working for George. She's worth every one I'll ever make."

"G_d, Ron, she's got you pussywhipped."

"Not like my sister doesn't?"

Harry laughed.

"Look inside the band."

Harry did as asked, and on the inside of the band were the tops of runes. "The matching band has the bottom ones. When you put them together properly, and say the specific charm, the ring will seal into one."

"How much did that bit of magic set you back?"

"Told you, mate. She's worth it. She's my everything."

Harry placed the engagement ring back inside the box, on top of the diamond encrusted band, and closed the box. He pushed it aside, and looked at his best mate. "I've had Ginny's ring for a while now."

"You have? Why haven't you proposed yet?"

"It's Mum's ring." Harry was quiet for a minute. "Ron, you're my best mate, and I want to stand in your shadow. I want you to have something of your own, something independent of me, something to shine for."

Ron looked down at the table in front of him. His thoughts churned, threatening the double shot that his emotions graduated to.

"Look, Ron, go first, please."

"Why me?" he intoned.

Harry looked away at the door to the parlor. He knew Ron was upset, but didn't want to call him on it. "Why not you? I seem to recall you saving my life. That amounts to something in my book."

He stole a glance out of the corner of his glasses, watching a gorm-like smile cross his face.

"It does, doesn't it?"

"Sure does. My hero goes first."

Ron flashed his patent lopsided grin.

"You mentioned your mum's ring. Dad know that?"

"Yea. We talked a year ago."

"But Ginny – "

"She knows." Harry cut across him. "We talk too. She's busy and wants this career. I don't mind waiting for her this go round. We'll wait until after you're married before I propose."

Harry grabbed the last morsel of bread, spooning it around the gravy in his bowl. "Now go on, you wanker. Go get a leg over."

"It's almost one. You know Hermione'll be a wench if I wake her now."

"Yea, right. Ginny tells me she's up 'til midnight every night studying. She won't be that far asleep for a _How's your father?_

Ron laughed, backing the bench away from the long table. "Probably right. Just don't let me hear you tonight. I don't need the nightmares."

"But it's Valentine's Day. Has been for almost an hour."

"Still don't want to hear you, cheeky bugger."

"Same to you!" Harry yelled as Ron was going through the door to the parlor.


	2. Cold toes and

Ch. 2 Cold Toes and ...

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Ron stood in the doorway of his bedroom, quietly watching the sleeping witch in his bed. He'd know it was her from anywhere. The bushy brown hair splayed out on the pillow was obvious. His jumper from third year – discarded years ago when he outgrew it – looked bloody gorgeous on her petite frame. It complimented her hair, with the maroon and gold threads in it. Under the gold and maroon bedclothes, he guessed she might be in a pair of knickers and a pair of long socks. Summer or winter, her feet stayed freezing, along with her hands. The healers said that was a side-effect from her torture and there was nothing they could do about it. Then again, some nights, she liked to surprise him by wearing nothing but a smile. Others, like this cold February night, she could be bundled up. He hoped that she wasn't wearing flannel sleep trousers. That might complicate things.

The clothes were no hindrance to what he wanted to share with her tonight.

John Thomas stirred in anticipation.

He took the velvet bag out of his trousers then opened the velvet box one last time. _It's not or never, mate._

He took the engagement ring out, looking at the candlelight dance along the facets of the ring. _I hope she likes it._

He closed the box, and put it back in the bag inside his trousers. Her ring went on his pinky finger, only going as far as the first knuckle. He knew it'd fit, since he had her looking around last Christmas. She had an idea that he was considering it, but he was able to placate her with his explanation of wanting to save more money for it, and get established as an Auror.

He shed his outer robes, leaving them lying on the chair in the corner. Next went the boots, unzipping the side so he could slip his size twelve feet out of them. Next went the socks, which were damp and rank for being on his feet for twelve hours. _Great, just what I need - a hole in another pair of socks._

Hermione spoiled him after the war ended, taking him out into Muggle London for some necessary shopping. At the time, it was humiliating. Now, Hermione laughs with his Mum about it. Having a bloke fit him for robes was bad enough, but having another woman, not his Hermione, touch him to get measurements, was revolting. He cringed, thinking about the matron measuring his inseam, or insisting that she measure him in and out of his kit for new trousers.

He quit complaining when they were the guests of honor at the Ministry Christmas Ball, and five different witches acted like they fancied him. They did that with her on his arm the entire night. That row, stemming from her jealousy, ended with a wild night in this room.

His cheeks flushed at that memory, and his pants became immediately uncomfortable. Nothing like a lascivious Hermione, flushed bright red while he pinned her to the bureau of their room while he rogered her to an inch of her life – or the smile on her face the next morning when she had considerable trouble walking. Harry was embarrassed, but Ginny laughed so hard she snorted.

Hermione'd never admit it, but she loved it. She loved when he took control, and gave as good as she did.

It wasn't the first or last time the two couples saw the aftermath, whether it was in a blazing row or ear piercing shagging.

He slipped out of the trousers, letting the long buggers stay on the floor. _That's a relief! _Next off was the black jacket, emblazoned with epaulets, rank, chevrons and stripes on the sleeves, and insignia on the high stiff collar. Off came the white button down uniform shirt, laid on the chair also.

He stood there in the room in his undershirt and Chudley Canon's pants. The chill of the room make the hairs on his flesh stand out, craving warmth again. He would find it from the person whom was asleep only a few feet away from him. She curled his toes and boiled his blood, all from a simple smile.

He tossed aside the undershirt, deciding at the last second to keep his pants on. They would keep him focused. The only thing remaining on his person was his concealed wand holster. Hermione understood his insistence that he never remove it from his arm, or his request that she keep hers under her pillow at night too. The war might have been officially over for almost two years, but there were still some sodding bastards out there who would love to get their hands on either one of them, disarmed or not.

Ron gently untucked the covers from the front, letting the bed clothes open up. He waved his hand at the bed, casting a warming charm on the front of it. He didn't want her cold toes on his hot bits for any reason.

He knelt down in front of their king sized platform bed, sliding between the sheets and under the duvet. Sure enough, the warming charm did what it should, and the bed in front of her perpetually chilly toes was warm to his chilled skin.

Under the warm covers of the bed, she smelled fantastic: Vanilla spice, mixed with the honey soap she used. The lotion she used on her legs kept her toes and calves baby smooth. The odors from higher on the bed included the spicy scent he knew and loved about her. This late at night, under the warm covers, she was still wanton and scarlet. No one else ever knew this part of her, the salacious side. _Well, maybe Harry and Ginny do, but not this way. _ He grinned at his cheek.

He laid a calloused finger on her skin, tracing a pattern on it. She didn't stir, but that didn't stop him from continuing. Behind his finger, he kissed, laying butterfly kisses on her skin, leaving heat and moisture behind.

He started at the instep, feeling the pulse through her foot. He moved to her ankle next, the one that Aunt Muriel denigrated her for. He didn't mind her skinny ankles. He thought they looked amazing when they were hooked around his neck when he pounded into her.

He didn't grasp her toned legs. She might still be asleep, but she was still ticklish on her feet and behind her knees. If he grabbed her, he might have a broken nose instead of feasting on her tender flesh. There was no choice to consider.

Ron left gentle kisses up her legs, leaving the hairs standing up in his wake.

He threaded his hands higher, feeling her start to wake from his ministrations. It didn't matter, since he was reasonably close to where he wanted to be when she woke. His hands settled on her hips, using his shoulders to wedge her legs further apart. The no knickers night was always a nice surprise.

"Ron?" he heard the muffled name through the bedclothes.

He sank his teeth gently into the soft skin of her inner thigh, letting his hand trail up her body. She would know it was him, since he had a habit of marking her in various places. His primary one might be the crux of her neck, right at the shoulder above the collarbone, where the bottom of her scar stopped. He also preferred the top of her right hip; the outside of her left breast, next to the overlapping scars on her chest; the inside of her left wrist, below where the carving on her arm. But his favorite, the one she never told a soul, was the one on her right leg just below the coifed coarse hair between her legs. She made it a special treat for him, and only him, dabbing a drop of the perfume he got for her a few Christmas past.

Her breath hitched, and her hips shifted in anticipation. "Ron! You're home."

He pushed her hips wider, making room for his axe handle wide shoulders. Her legs slid around his shoulders, one going up on top and the other outside of his arm. A nudge with his nose, and her hips were exactly where he wanted them to be.

Cerulean blue eyes looked up in the candlelight to warm chocolate ones. She hadn't noticed his hand had snuck up and over her breast, bypassing the protruding nipple he loved to lave, suck, nibble, bite, and tweak to perfection. He kept his hand still, hiding the cool metal on his finger. _Not yet._

"Hermione?"

She looked down at him, almost in annoyance. Her huff betrayed her impatience. "Yes, Ron?"

"You remember that song that played at your parent's house in Australia? The one we danced to in their den after they went to bed?"

She propped up on her elbows, looking down at the ginger hair that was hanging over the end of her abdomen, mixing with the curls between her legs. "I do. That was a terrific ending to a wonderful day."

"Do you remember the song that was playing on the wireless? That song by the American singer? Didn't your mum say that it was the one that your parents' favorites to dance to? Didn't she leave that record on the phonograph?"

Hermione could only grin at his attempt to decipher the Muggle technology. "Oh Ron. That was a compact disc that she put on to play. It's not a record or a phonograph. And it certainly wasn't a wireless." She sighed. "When Mum heard it on the radio at work, she thought about me while I was at school. She thought at first it was about missing someone. It was only later that she realized it was a love song."

"But do you like it? I mean really like it?"

"It's alright. I think I heard it a few times while I was home over the summers. Why?"

"It's Valentine's Day."

"And? It's not like we've really done anything for them before."

"We've only had one before this one.

She huffed.

"Don't you remember that they played it when we went to visit them last Christmas?"

"I think we were a little busy last Christmas. I didn't pay attention to the music in my father's library because you were too busy shagging me on his desk."

Ron leered, remembering that memorable night, the next early morning, and the late night of Boxing Day. It didn't hurt that they had just really made up from a nasty fight a couple of weeks prior. Dancing in Dr. Granger's study on Christmas Eve started their festivities.

Ron waved his arm out into the room and a song started to play.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at him. He had on his Auror face, the one that never betrayed his thoughts. "What's going on?"

"You know I'm rubbish when it comes to singing. I know I sound like an asthmatic kneazle when I sing, so you've said. So, I asked your Mum, and she was more than glad to help out. Dad even bought me a copy of the disc too."

"What's going on, Ronald?" she said in an impatient huff. "Quit being enigmatic."


	3. A kiss in the rain

Ch. 3 - A kiss in the Rain

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A/N: You came for the romance - and comes the lemon filling. This chapter earns the M rating. - DG

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"What's going on, Ronald?" she said in an impatient huff. "Quit being enigmatic."

He grinned. "Hush, wench, and just listen."

_Even though it's been so long__  
My love for you keeps going strong__  
I remember the things that we used to do__  
A kiss in the rain 'til the sun shine through__  
I try to deny it but I'm still in love with you  
__  
_

Ron moved his body up hers, still hiding the ring in his finger. By the focus she had on her face, and the way she furrowed her eyebrows, she was listening to the lyrics. A wave of his hand, and the music paused.

"Last year, when you were in school, and I was running balls to the wall, between training camp and working for George, I was missing you like crazy. That first summer after the war ended, and we had those six glorious weeks home before you went off to school was memorable. That afternoon out in the orchard and we were caught in the rainstorm was something else."

Hermione looked down, watching him settle onto her stomach. For once she couldn't read his expression. He looked poised and almost excited, but holding a tight leash on his emotions.

Ron waved his hand again, and the music picked up.

_I miss you like crazy, I miss you like crazy__  
Ever since you went away, every hour of every day__  
I miss you like crazy, I miss you like crazy__  
No matter what I say or do__  
There's just no getting over you  
__  
_

Another hand wave and the music paused yet again.

"Every afternoon, when I was falling arse-over-tits in training, screamed at by the instructors, every time I wanted to give up and walk away, I'd hear your voice inside my head, telling me to just keep going that extra second. If you had the courage and tenacity to endure what you did, how could I do less? I needed to prove to you that I was the man you needed."

She wanted to hide her face in the pillows behind her head, but it was pointless with her chess master in front of her. "But that was different and it's not true either."

He pulled her face up from where she tried to hide, watching his face scrunch up in determination.

"No, it's not and yes it is. You are my shining example of courage, Hermione. You say that I saved your life. It's also true for me. I needed to live to save you, and if anything had happened to you, I'd have given up. I'm a Merlin first class prat at times, and I need to earn your respect."

"Oh Ron," she said quietly, while wiping a rogue tear from his face. "I already do."

Another hand wave and the music started back up again.

_I can see the love shining in your eyes__  
And it comes as such a sweet surprise__  
If seeing's believing it's worth the wait__  
So hold me and tell me it's not too late__  
We're so good together, we're starting forever now  
__  
_

The music held once again. He looked at the stunning witch before his eyes. The boulder in his throat threatened to ruin all of his planning. "Bloody Hell!"

Hermione reached her hand out to his while laying her permanently ink stained one over the top of his. Like every other time, her simple touch was enough to make him whole.

"That first morning, when you woke at Shell Cottage, I made a decision. I said if we survived the war, I would do anything and everything I could for you. Luna was right when she said we are so good together. Well, I'm tired of waiting, and I want to start forever now, with you."

Hermione watched as Ron uncurled his left hand, and on the first knuckle of his pinkie was an exquisite ring.

"Ron?"

Ron clambered to his knees, pulling Hermione up with him. "Hermione, I've loved you for years. Everything up to the day you kissed me, as painful as it is to say, was worth the wait. I need you. I want you. I choose you. Will you do me the honor, and be my wife?"

Ron slid the silver ring on her finger, waiting for her to give him the words he knew she was going to tell him. She looked at the ring on her finger, staring at such a gift.

Heartbeats tattooed in his chest. Her hands shook in his, whether from emotions or side effects. Neither reason mattered to him. When it came to the barmy witch in front of him, the one in his hands and heart, either reason was fine.

She looked up at him, watching the joy dance across his face. "Yes," she whispered.

He took his hands from hers, and put them on her face. A gentle, almost chaste kiss and he was uncurling from the bed. "Dance with me, Mrs. Weasley, if you please."

Hermione continued to kneel on the bed, befuddled. He held his hand out for her, waiting for her to take it. "Trust me?"

"With my life." She placed her hand in his. He pulled her off of the bed, setting her sock clad feet on the chilly floor of their bedroom.

She snuggled into him, feeling the heat boiling off of him through the wool jumper and maroon knee socks she had on. In comparison, he had on his Canon's pants. "Aren't you cold?"

"Nah. 'S ok. I'm burning up."

She burrowed her face into his chest, feeling the fine soft hairs on his chest, between his pectorals, along with the even finer hair that was on the top of his hips. Standing this close, not even dancing, just embracing the moment was enough to excite him.

He flung his arm out again, and the song picked back up. Neither couple caught the bridge or the chorus for the next parts.

The young couple swayed to the music, holding tight to one another. He even tried to take a step to his left, in an attempt to dance.

The song ended, but they kept the swaying to the music playing in their heads and hearts.

"Ron?"

Red rimmed blue eyes looked down on red rimmed brown eyes. "Yea?"

"Can we play this at our wedding?"

"That was the idea, love. This will be one way of thanking your parents."

Hermione stood up on her toes while pulling him down into a searing kiss. He moved his hands down on her arse, lifting her up into his arms. Two steps and he slammed her into the wall of their bedroom. "Ron!"

He maneuvered his arm, supporting her with his other arm, and banished the few clothes they wore between them.

One hard lust filled look from her was all he needed. He found his second favorite spot, and claimed her for his own. "Mine!"

"Mark me. Only you. No one else," she struggled through loud pants in his ear, only for his ears. He did as she begged, and she dug those petite, short nailed ink stained fingers into his arms. He would have bruises later that morning, but making her his was well worth it.

He looked up, not bothering to verify the handiwork he just inflicted upon his fiancée. One more lust filled look between the two, and he took her for his soon to be bride.

"OhFuckRonYes!"

"So good," he growled into her neck.

"So very good," she avowed in return. She threw her arms back, trying to keep from breaking a hole into the sheetrock of their bedroom.

"Let go" he growled at her. She instantly uncoupled her legs from around his waist. He lifted one up, then the other, sandwiching her further onto the wall. "Perfect," he snarled. "Need you."

"Yours," she whimpered, embracing what her passionate lover evoked from her. "Forever."

He changed tempo, hammering her into the wall. Tonight, she didn't mind that she'd have trouble walking into work later that morning. He was worth the ribbing she would get from her secretary in the office. The mortification from Harry and Ginny would be worth it.

She had three seconds before the climax that had been flittering around the edges of her hormonal control fell on her. She screamed, the howl of pleasure tearing from her throat. "Almost," he stammered while he pounded her into the wall. She couldn't see, and the overload was too much.

A louder yell rang out in the room, making her throat sore, before he proclaimed her name.

The only sound left in their bedroom was the heavy breathing of satiated satisfaction.

"Oh dear G_d that was amazing!" She opened her eyes, looking for recognition from her fiancé.

Seconds passed before he opened his eyes and saw English Oak ones looking up at him. The mirth in them was beautiful.

"Woman, you're amazing."

She wriggled in his embrace, swinging her legs wide of his shoulders then arms and worked them down his body. He shifted his arms, letting her legs thread back down. She landed with a thud while he grinned like a troll.

"Just trying to keep up with you, dear," she professed. "It's always a pleasure when you bend me like a deck chair."

He flashed his lopsided grin, the one that melted her into a pile of mush.

"I do hope that you silenced and sealed the room."

"I did before I came in. Harry said he didn't want to hear us."

Hermione blushed, remembering the time that Harry barged into the room from all of the noise they were making. She felt a hand lift her face up, looking into the blue eyes that she could never get enough of.

"It's not like I want to know what he and my sister get up to either."

Shame crossed her face, along with realization. "What are we going to tell our parents? It's not like I want them to know about how you proposed, as wonderful as it is."

"Oh, I have that all arranged too."

"You do?"

"Always a tone of surprise," he cheeked. "You have today off from work."

"No, I don't. My schedule clearly states -"

"Hermione."

"What, Ronald?" She punctuated her irritation with a trademark eye roll.

"You have the day off from work. Your director knows what's going to happen today."

She blanched. "You didn't?"

He nodded.

"But why?"

"I've spent months planning out today, just for you. I've been a git and a bit of a tosser for a few of them, and I didn't want you to think I was completely rubbish at this romance stuff."

She leaned back against the wall, feeling the slight burning in the muscles she didn't frequently stretch out of him. _Not now_, she mentally berated herself. "I don't think you're rubbish."

"Now you're just making me feel better."

"No, I think I just did that."

They shared a grin and a chuckle.

"So what's the plan, Mr. Weasley?"

"That, my dear Miss Granger, is not for you to know, but to trust me."

She put her hands in his, and tipped forward into his embrace.

"Then take me to bed or lose me forever."

"Show me the way home, honey."


	4. Lunch at the Roof Gardens

**Ch. 4 - Lunch at the Roof Gardens**

* * *

Ron and Hermione left the Roof Gardens restaurant after a pleasant late lunch. Valentine's Day for the two of them was shaping up splendidly. Ron's plans for the day had gone flawlessly, which considering the history the two of them had, was a testimony to his chess planning skills. She didn't realize how much effort he put into planning today, or working out every detail they would need.

They woke later than usual, since Ron requested off from the Academy – requested months in advance, as well as working extra shifts with George so he could have a Monday off as well. Breakfast for Hermione, which was nothing compared to what he took for the first meal of the day, was served to her in bed. Fresh baked bread with butter, porridge, fresh fruit, and a cup of coffee with crème and no sugar.

They talked, laughing like the kids they should have been instead of old souls in their twenty-year-old bodies. War aged them dramatically, even if their chronology differed entirely. Laughter was hard to come by those first few months, into the year beyond and further. Between his work at the shop with George, and also at the Auror Academy, not to mention Hermione's last year at Hogwarts – working full time at the Ministry and also reading at night at Oxford – the time was flying by for the two who barely saw one another. They made it enough.

The time spent with one another – weekends mostly, even if Hermione had her nose stuck in a book – magical contracts or Muggle law – was pleasant since they became a couple that fateful day almost two years past. Taking a day off from work, school, and classes was a miracle in itself.

They left Grimmauld Place, not having seen nor heard Harry. Ginny was off at six A.M. practice with the Harpies and wouldn't be back until the evening. Kreacher also went back to his room, a small one off the kitchen near the boiler. His life was comfortable now, wearing what he chose, paid against his own wishes, and given comforts not afforded most house elves. Kreacher benefitted from having Hermione Granger as his new patron – and this, in turn, benefitted the other residents.

They started the morning with a walk in Hyde Park, taking in the chilly morning and the other quiet lovers on a mid-morning stroll. All morning, her hand barely left his, enjoying the fresh air and scenery around them. The dampness in the air was a break from the frigid winter. Spring was fast approaching, even in London.

The landscape was close to barren, since it was still too early for flowers and blooms of spring. That didn't matter to the strolling couple, who watched the rest of the London commuters making their way into work, or wherever they were going.

"Why are we out this early on a day off? What is important about today? It's just Valentine' Day."

"We're celebrating."

"Celebrating?"

"Sure. This is our second Valentine's Day together. Since we couldn't have it together last year, I thought we should have a proper one this year."

"We had a proper one last year, if you recall," huffed Hermione shivering under her wool coat, hand knitted wool cap, and knee high boots. "Hogsmeade weekend, and we spent it snogging in the corner of the Three Broomsticks."

"That wasn't a proper Valentine's Day, love. I only had four hours with you, and we certainly had little time for anything else, not with your Head Girl duties in addition to snogging me silly. If you remember, I had to get back by four so George could go out with Angelina. I don't know if you remember that, but that was the day he asked her out on their first date."

A ghost of a smile crossed her face, the memory of a letter delivered by owl the next morning detailing how George was slowly growing into his new life, sans the other half of his soul. It took a while for him to pluck up the courage to ask out Angelina, but she had waited even more patiently on him.

"I remember, now, and how you curled my toes right before you left. I thought McGonagall was going to have a litter of Kneazles when she saw me snogging you at the front gates. But all she did was smile once I was inside the gate, and turn heel and leave."

"So, you see? I wanted to do a proper Valentine's Day, when neither one of us had additional obligations, appointments, or duties."

Ron twirled her around near the Joy of Life Fountain, appreciating the irony of the name for what they were doing today. He grinned, knowing what was going to happen today, and that Hermione would love it – and cry about it. Last night was for them, but today was the one they would tell the grandkids.

They walked on, watching tourists stroll the cool park, taking in the scenery. More tourists were around, lovers slowing interspersing their walk.

"Where are we going? It's not like you to appreciate a walk in the park for our day off. You usually have other things in mind when we have time together."

"Well, we're killing a little bit of time before our lunch reservations."

"Lunch reservations?"

Ron looked down at the bundled up witch he loved. "We have lunch reservations at half eleven at the Roof Gardens."

She stopped walking, looking at Ron seriously.

"Ron Weasley, you tell me right now what's going on. You already proposed this morning."

He grinned, flashing the one smile that always got him out of trouble with his mum. "No."

Hermione crossed her arms. Her ears turned red, and her eyes flashed, and her hip cantered. "Did you just say no?"

He nodded, giving her an enigmatic smile that always infuriated her. "This is my day to celebrate with you, and it's a surprise beyond what I've told you. You're my fiancée now, but I want to celebrate Valentine's Day at least once the right way."

She stood there, looking at the man she loved, the one who grew up in a hurry during the war, and the one who was a better version of the one she fell in love with as a child. He was tall, and he had grown into his oversized feet and hands, and had filled out thanks to Auror training and regular oversized meals daily, courtesy of Hermione, Kreacher, and his Mum.

She sighed, realizing that he wasn't going to budge from his plans. The Auror trained Ron Weasley was a fearsome sight – broad shoulders, proper balance, eyes scanning their surroundings constantly, patience. That was another infuriating thing – he could wait her out most times, much to her chagrin. "Fine. We'll do today your way. But the next holiday is my idea."

"Sorted."

Ron looked down at his wrist, looking at his birthday present, courtesy of his parents. "We have to head on. It's already eleven, and I don't want us to miss our reservations."

They hurried to a quiet corner of the park. "Love?" he asked quietly, holding out his arm for her to join him. She took it with a smile on her lips before they Disapparated to the next stop on their date.

Ron Apparated them to an empty corner near their destination. He had spent days making sure where he was appearing would be pedestrian free, since there were not Apparition zones in this part of London. So – with some begging on his behalf by Harry and himself to Kingsley, he facilitated a temporary landing zone for them – just for this morning. He picked up the old trainer that was next to the wall of the building and tapped it twice with his wand. It glowed blue before departing for the Portkey office.

"Was that a Portkey?"

"Sure was. I begged and some friends helped set us up a temporary Apparition landing zone for us this morning."

She looked at him, holding back the comment that was burning her tongue.

"Go ahead, say it. I know you're dying to."

She grinned. "That's brilliant."

He smirked as well. "Always the tone of surprise."

"Cheeky prat."

"Barmy witch. Now, let's go so we're not late for lunch. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

They arrived at the entrance to the building, with Ron taking the lead. "Have you been here before?" quipped Hermione next to him.

"Only when I came with Bill to set up the reservations."

"Bill knows about this?"

"Only the place. Fleur wanted something nice for their anniversary last year, so this is where he brought her. He was impressed, even if took some galleons out of their vault."

"I know about this place. It's not cheap."

"No, it's not, but you're worth every knut for it."

Hermione stopped them in front of the elevators. He turned, looking at the diminutive witch in his hands. They looked at one another, savoring the quiet moment. "Thank you."

He pulled her gloved hand to his lips, pressing cold kisses on the calfskin leather on her hands. "No, thank you, for giving me a second chance."

She blushed, looking beautiful.

An elevator ding interrupted their silent conversation.

They boarded the elevator, making their way to the seventh floor, and their reservations.

* * *

"And for you, Madame?"

"I'll have the Halibut."

"And you, sir?"

Ron looked once more, cringing at the complicated dishes on the menu. "I'll have the beef daube."

The waited looked down at them, smiling politely. "Excellent choice sir. Wine?"

Hermione spoke up first. "We'll have tea instead. It's a little early for wine for us."

"Very good. I shall return shortly with your tea."

Hermione looked around the room, taking in the scenery. The restaurant was already busy, whether with the lunch crowds from the offices surrounding the neighborhood, or with tourists who didn't quite look right in the art deco scenery. Their table, just for two, was perfect for them. Ron sat with his back to the wall, facing out to watch. She knew he had his wand under his robes, and his spare in the holster attached to his arm. He never went anywhere without his spare on his arm. She insisted on it after the ambush his first training mission out. Her regular one was strapped to her thigh, and her backup on her left wrist, hidden under concealment. Ron insisted as well for his own peace of mind.

She looked back, appreciating Ron in his new apparel. Once he had saved some galleons from working with George, she insisted he get new clothes. He balked at how much she lavished on his wardrobe, but she insisted that if he was going to dress for success, at WWW and at the Academy, he needed to look his best.

The humiliation from the fitting at the store was lamentable, but once he had new trousers, jeans, and dress shirts, he felt like a million galleons. He looked sharp when he worked at the shop, getting people to address him as Mr. Weasley – along with people out in public, who would shake his hand and give him the respect he desperately craved.

Hermione had to cope with witches hitting on him, once he was wearing his new attire. She had to bite her tongue on more than one occasion when a silly bint hit on him when she was standing next to him, his arm in hers. Those rows, while comical now, weren't then – even if making up for her jealousy was more pleasant.

He was dressed in a suit, navy with miniscule red stripes, white dress shirt, maroon and gold tie, and burgundy oxfords. He would pass for someone from Whitehall if he were older. Most only saw the ginger hair and freckles. They rarely saw his eyes, still haunted on occasion by all that he had witnessed.

Hermione was in compliment to him, dressed in a grey wool skirt that came to her ankles; black riding boots with small heels; black turtle neck, and a matching grey wool blazer.

"You sure this is what you wanted?"

He looked back at his girlfriend, the one who was his everything. "Well, it won't be Mum's cooking, but we'll manage today. I wanted something nice for us, for once."

Hermione smiled, realizing that he was still the insecure little boy under his new attire. "We could have had lunch with your Mum and I would have been fine with it. You didn't have to go to the trouble for all of this."

He flushed, his ears matching his cheeks. "I'm serious. We're frugal – living with Harry and Ginny, eating in to keep Kreacher happy, spending as little as possible so we can save up for a cottage one day. Why not treat my girl to something nice every now and then?"

She looked down at the tea which came when she didn't notice. "You still want a cottage outside of London, away from the bustle?"

He looked at her. "I enjoy it here, since you're here, but it gets a bit much sometimes. I'd love to hop a broom and fly around without concern who wondering whose going to see me, or whether I can walk outside with my girl and hold her hand without some git making a comment. I love seeing the sunrise in the morning, and the stars at night. It's also the only place and time I like the quiet."

Hermione took a sip of her tea, appreciating the tepid breakfast tea they served. "Maybe we could find something in between, maybe not London, and maybe not Devon? We could look for a house in a quieter community, something a bit slower, perhaps, such as Oxfordshire or Wales?"

Ron smiled over his cup, already planning on something. He'd have to sit down and discuss it with Harry, since they were in each other's pockets daily and he didn't want his best mate too far away. He also didn't want to be terribly far from his parents down in Devon, or Hermione's parents in Oxfordshire. If anything, they would live closer to John and Jean Granger and Apparate for the others.

"When we have the galleons saved up, we can look around and see what's available. A home closer to your parents in Oxfordshire might be a wise idea. I can always Floo or Apparate home for them. I don't think your parents would appreciate travel by Portkey again."

Hermione grimaced, remembering how they fared the first time they took a Portkey from their living room to the Burrow. After that trip, her parents insisted on being driven home from Devon. Hermione fell asleep in Ron's arms soon after they arrived to the Granger residence, having been up since half five that morning. Ron held her in his arms, Apparating them home. He tucked her into their bed, and snuggled in shortly thereafter. She woke the next morning barely remembering how she got home and tucked under the covers.

"No, let's not subject them to magical travel if we can help it again. Floo and Portkey were bad enough."

They laughed now, since time had passed from when they returned to England with her parents. They had to work to rebuild the relationship between parents and child, and it was only after they saw the state of their house, before Ron and Hermione as well as the entire Weasley clan came and repaired their home did they truly appreciate how much their only daughter protected them.

"So for Easter, we'll go to their house for the day?"

"Sure. Garden parties in Oxfordshire are as dry as the champagne at the parties we have to attend."

_Tut tut._

The waiter interrupted, bringing their ordered meal. Ron frowned, seeing the slightly empty plate in front of him. _Certainly not Mum's cooking_, he thought. He looked up, and Hermione was smiling at her meal before her. _She's worth it._

They tucked in.


	5. Afternoon at the Eye

**ch. 5 - Afternoon at the Eye**

* * *

Ron and Hermione walked hand in hand up the pathway at Jubilee Gardens. The Eye of London was in the background, not quite open for tourists and other riders. Lunch was enjoyable, if not expensive for Ron. He didn't mind paying the bill, since she was worth it, but he could have used a second helping of everything, as well as a second dessert. He'd have to have a snack afterwards before they went home. 'Maybe Mum will have something at the house for us.'

She was bundled back up in her wool coat along with her scarf and hat. Her bushy curls stuck out from the sides and bottom of the knitted hat, courtesy of his Mum last Christmas. The warming charms she cast around her held for the time being, since she was chronically cold now. The healers at St. Mungo's said it was a side effect, and permanent. She never complained about it, having chilled hands and feet and skin. Ron did when she put her toes on his hot skin. He complained, but then was more than happy to massage those cold toes and fingers for her benefit.

"Where to now, kind sir?"

"One last stop on our date today, dear."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Well, I called in some favors, and I made some special arrangements."

She looked up, craning her neck to look at his face. His cheeks and ears were flushed, blending into the multi-hued scarf his mum made for him last Christmas as well. The black wool topcoat kept him warm, along with the gloves on his long fingers.

They stopped in front of the gargantuan Ferris wheel that overlooked the River Thames. Construction pylons circled the base, along with iron railings.

"Ron, why are we stopping here?"

He looked down and smiled, cherishing this moment. "This is one of the largest favors I ever asked. I begged Kingsley to help me do this part. So, for the next hour, we are going to have the Eye of London run, just for us. So, if you don't mind?"

Hermione stood there, buffeted by the wind off of the river, completely gobsmacked. "You didn't!"

"I did. George and I donated some new security items for the Auror department, and in exchange, this was part of my bonus. George donated to the foundation that is helping with the upkeep of the park, and I get to take my girl for a spin over London before it officially opens."

He saw that she was starting to crumble. "No crying yet, dear. Let's get inside where it's warmer before you fall apart." He opened the door to the observation pod, feeling the warmth from the compartment drift out. "Now love, let's get inside and we can talk and watch the world go by."

They stepped inside, and Hermione stopped two steps into the compartment. Blue lights were strewn along the ceiling, and the windows were darkened to show the cooling light. "You decorated too?"

He nodded, finding her hands already in his. "Look, I wanted something special this year. I'm rubbish when it comes to showing you and treating you how you should. I wanted to really make an effort this year, since it's really our first that we're truly together. Last year, as great as it was, doesn't quite count in my book. So, this year is it. I wanted to make it unforgettable."

Small arms enveloped him. He nuzzled his nose into her vanilla spice scented hair, feeling the warmth from her head radiating off of her. The knitted hat, smelling of treacle tart and cinnamon, felt like home. He took off his gloves, putting them into the left pocket of his overcoat. One little touch on the right one told him that his special package was still in there. She wore it last night, but since tonight was official, he had to propose yet again. One last surprise for his everything.

Ron pulled his wand from his robes, flourishing it to lock the compartment. Another flick of his wrist, and soft music began to play. One last movement, and the compartment controls started, sending them towards the top.

Hermione pulled back from his embrace, looking flushed. "Dance with me?" she asked quietly.

Ron smiled down, finding her smile enchanting. "If I step on your toes, sorry."

Hermione stood up on her toes, pulling him down for a quick yet passionate kiss.

They broke apart when breathing became necessary. A smile flittered between the two of them, a glimpse of the kids they were. Soft music continued to play in the background, and the young couple continued to dance in their own little world.

The music stopped, and Ron stopped shuffling his size twelve feet. Hermione pulled back from his warm embrace. Confusion was written all over it. "What's wrong, Ron?"

He smiled, fighting the boulder that was lodged in his throat. He took her hands in his, feeling the slow growing warmth in her fingers caressing his own through the two layers of leather on their gloves. "Hermione."

"Yes Ron?"

He dropped to one knee, taking out a black velvet box from his right pocket. She tried to take her hands from his, but he held them fast in his own. He swallowed a couple of times, trying to remember the words he wrote so long ago, the ones he committed to memory on those chilly April nights by candlelight in a small bedroom by the sea. These were different. They were official.

"Look at me, please."

She opened her eyes, seeing the cerulean ones she loved gone and replaced by the sapphire ones that she only saw on special occasions. Her hands were still in his, held to his chest on top of his heart.

"The day you woke, and you uttered those words I craved to hear, was the best day of my life. Shortly thereafter, I had the worst day of my life – but you turned it into an unforgettable day. Since then, we've had our share of great days, and some really crummy ones. For each one, you've been there by my side, making it better, tolerable, worth enduring."

He caught his breath. "I need you. You make me a better man, and want to be even better."

He looked up, and saw her face a mess, from the running mascara she deigned to put on today for his benefit, to the tear tracks through her barely touched face, and the red rims on her eyes. Once again, Ron Weasley made her cry. At least this time, it would be for the right reasons.

"I realized the day I let you go on the train back to school that I wanted to start living as soon as you finished school. Sure, we moved in together, much to our parent's upset, but I wanted you by my side. It wasn't until those long days at the Academy, while you were studying once again, that I understood that the title girlfriend wasn't enough."

Ron opened the box that they both held, showing her the sapphire and diamond ring on the black velvet pillows. "I know you wouldn't want flashy or gaudy, since that isn't who you are. I picked the sapphire since it's your birthstone, and the diamonds went along with it. The ring is silver, and once I put the band with it, the runes that are etched on the inside will meld into one ring, for you to wear for a lifetime."

Hermione put her hand to her mouth, hearing his profession for her.

"Hermione, a lifetime with you will never be enough, but I certainly want to try. Will you marry me?"

"Yes," she whispered, echoing around the chamber. "I will marry you, Ronald Weasley."

He stood up in a rush, picking her up and twirling her around, crushing her lips to his own, passion threatening to erupt between the two of them.

Lights flashed in the compartment, and applause broke their reverie.

Ron lowered his fiancée to the floor of the compartment, flushing in embarrassment. " What? Who?" asked Hermione in confusion.

From the dark corner of the pod was a shimmer. A movement, and there stood Harry. She looked, and for a brief second, glared. The moment passed, and she ran to embrace her brother. "You knew?"

"Of course. Ron planned it all – and insisted I be here."

More movement caught her eye, and before her eyes materialized the entire Weasley family. "You didn't?"

"Dear, we all knew. He planned it all. But he asked for our help."

"When Ron told us what he wanted, we insisted on helping," Molly said from beside her husband.

"We're your friends. Of course we'd be here. I couldn't let my best friend get engaged without witnessing it." Ginny embraced Hermione before smiling at her brother beside her.

Hermione felt a second hug on her back, along with the smell of peaches. "Daddy couldn't come, so I said I would and take pictures. You don't want to forget this, do you?"

Hermione looked over her shoulder to the petite blonde face of Luna Lovegood. Behind her stood Dean Thomas, who had been her companion for years now. "This will make a beautiful rendering: the setting of the sun, Westminster in the background, Ron on one knee, and you looking fabulous. Why not?"

Hermione started to tear up again, missing the one couple who would have made it complete.

A tap on her shoulder bade her turn around. "Missing someone sis?"

Harry smiled, and wove his wand. There stood Drs. John and Jean Granger, crying. "Mum! Dad!"

"Our daughter's getting married," cried Mrs. Granger. Hermione fell into her embrace, crying in completion of her perfect Valentine's Day. Molly Weasley joined in the fray, hugging her soon to be daughter in law.

They missed seeing Dr. Granger hugging his soon to be son in law. "You were outstanding, son."

Ron's ears went red again. "Thanks," he muttered.

Ron felt strong hands on his shoulders, gripping them in solidarity. "You did great, Son. We're proud of you."

Ron turned around, and was crushed in his Mum's embrace. She was crying too, wetting his overcoat. But he found his eyes looking back at him. One smile, and a hug from his father, and he was fighting for control too. "Thanks!"


	6. Breaking the News

**Ch 6 - Breaking the News**

* * *

Hermione rolled over and felt the warm body lying next to her. She knew his snore was what woke her up from a hard slumber. She didn't mind, since she needed to be up early anyway. He might have made arrangements for her to be off work yesterday, but that didn't stop the work from piling up in her absence. She'd have to make it up to her Director, probably by staying late today or bringing work home. It didn't matter. She had her prize already. He was lying next to her.

She shifted, snuggling into his side. He slept hot, which was fine for her. She slept cold now. The doctors said it was permanent due to the side-effects of repeated torture. She didn't mind except when he was out working all night. Those were the worst. No amount of jumpers, knee high socks or fleece trousers could keep her warm enough. Only Ron did.

Hermione leaned in and kissed him on the shoulder, knowing that he didn't need to be into the office until eleven. It didn't matter if she retired for the night at eight or one. She'd still be awake at half five in the morning. Some habits were impossible to break.

She slid out of the bed, working hard not to disturb her fiancé. _Fiancé. That's true. He proposed and I said yes. It's official. We're going to be married._

She tiptoed to the chair in the corner, slipping on the heavy housecoat she loved. It was swallowed her up since it was Ron's old one. She didn't mind because she needed the warmth. Hermione couldn't stay in the bed any longer, and if she was there when he woke she'd indulge him with a wake up shag as well.

Some habits weren't worth breaking.

She slipped out of the room intending to step into the loo across the hall. Hermione closed the door and came face to face with her girlfriend and soon to be sister in law. Ginny smirked.

"You're up early this morning. I thought you might sleep another hour."

Hermione blushed back. "Auror grade silencing spells are great, aren't they?"

Her throat was raw from her yelling. She sounded like Ginny after a Quidditch match. She blushed harder.

Ginny smirked further. "They certainly are. Harry and I knew you were home but we didn't hear a thing. That's a good thing since you sound like me." Ginny grinned wider. "You're walking a little gingerly, like you played Quidditch for a few hours. Do I even want to know?"

Hermione blushed harder. "I'm sure it's nothing that you've not done either."

"Fair enough. Let me get going. I've got to be at the field in twenty minutes. 6 A.M. practice starts are murder."

Ginny hugged her best friend before slipping out of the loo.

* * *

Walking was hard this morning. Her fiancée wore her out upon their return home. They didn't make it to the parlor before he hoisted her over his broad shoulders and carried her to their bedroom. Silenced, sealed, and protected as best as Ron knew, he threw her on their bed and took his pleasure in shagging her senseless. They repeated off and on the rest of the evening, falling into a hard slumber before Midnight.

Hermione struggled down the stairs to the kitchen, finding it quiet at almost six in the morning. Each step was exquisitely sore. She was normally up first, followed by Ginny then the guys. She wouldn't mind this morning, at least from them. Hermione'd mind all of the questions that would happen from everyone else at work. The questions from the girls in the office were one thing; the looks from the men would be another.

Ron told her last night that The Quibbler would be running the pictures this morning on their front page. She was curious to see how Xenophilius Lovegood would run the breaking edition with The Prophet running theirs the next day. They gave the exclusives to Luna's dad – their way of funding her expeditions and thanking her for being their friend. It was a small price to pay for Luna's help on the media front.

She passed the threshold into the kitchen and walked to the table. Sure enough, there lay the Quibbler on the oaken table, with Ron in the photograph on one knee proposing to her.

The barely recognized herself, standing in her finery illuminated by miniature blue balls of light in the observation pod on the Eye of London, high above Jubilee Gardens with Westminster in the background. The family in the background, unbeknownst to her, was a beautiful touch.

In contrast print on the front of the Magazine was the simple phrase, _Weasley to Wed_ and with the corresponding page. That was fine.

She looked down and saw that the Daily Prophet was under the magazine. The same picture was showing, but it had a glaring headline.

**War Hero proposes; War Hero accepts  
**

Shock coursed through her veins. _How did they get it so fast, or the same one. Mr. Lovegood must have sold it for a fortune to get it that fast._

She grinned. She couldn't help it. The proposal making the headlines across Wizarding England and beyond these shores spoke louder than anything else he could do.

She read the headline once more, blinking in a bold font on the front of the paper. Ron Weasley proposing in front of Wizarding London made for a brilliant statement. Ron Weasley could be a romantic, when he wanted to be. _He's not rubbish, not at all._

Hermione scanned the news article. It was filled with the usual petulant reporting and salacious details that were hardly accurate. She checked once more and saw the byline by her favorite bug.

_Figures she'd make a mess of this too. She'll never let go of giving me grief._

She read further, and saw Ron quoted on the next page and was shocked. "Ronald Weasley, what did you do?" She took off the ring and looked inside, seeing the half runes on her band. "Why did you tell them that?" she whispered.

She put her concealed wand to her throat, casting _Sonorus_ for the upper bedrooms.

"Ron, get your arse down here!"

Seconds later, Ron strolled into the kitchen, greeting her with a lopsided grin before a kiss.

Hermione shoved the paper in his face, trying to avoid his attention. "Why did you tell them this?"

Ron looked at the papers and smiled. "I wanted to shout it from the top of the Eye that you said yes. Since there is that pesky law about magical secrecy, this was the next best thing."

Hermione pointed to the sentence in question. "No, this!"

He read the sentence and smiled even further. "I didn't mention that. She must have tracked down the jeweler. He must have told them what he thought the inscription said."

Hermione buried her head in her hands, burrowing her head into his jumper and housecoat. "I'm going to kill you, Ronald Weasley. That bit was for us."

She looked up, and was greeted with his best smile. "No, you're going to love me for it. Trust me. Now, read it again. Look closer at the script."

She looked at the ring again. "Wait. She got the inscription wrong. It says –"

He interrupted her next diatribe with a fiery kiss. "You're welcome, Mrs. Soon to be Weasley."

She stepped back, and smiled.

"You tosser. You lied to her."

"Of course I did. I had to bugger up her story somehow, didn't I?"

Their peals of laughter resonated through the house.

_Fin_

* * *

A/N: My thanks to my beta for this story, **Nellark**, for checking the London details, and for fangirling over this. My thanks also to B for hosting the fest where this was first published. This might be the most fun I had writing a story, as fluffy as it is.  
Finally, for those who have asked - the ring set on her fingers is inspired by the one I am wearing and have for years. It's heirloom - my great-grandmother's set - which I had turned into one ring from two. The only difference is that mine doesn't have runes inscribed on the inside. - DG


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